A Bosmer's Story
by Bosmer41
Summary: Tindranel made a dark deal. Now he must face his consequences


The elf's face was scarred and dirt-ridden. The large tree it perched on had seen better days itself. It was blackened, charred by the large skirmish that had just occurred. Down below were hundreds of corpses. The bodies of Legionaries and Stormcloaks lay ridden across the burnt earth. A few were those of Aldmeri soldiers. "Damn the war", the elf mumbled. He dropped down, and began to walk toward a dense forest. The trees were mostly leafless, but a few evergreens reached toward the domain of Kynareth. The landscape was blanketed by a layer of white. Snow, the Bosmer thought. The air was brisk, and cold. A slight breeze flew across the land. The trees were glazed with ice and were slippery to the touch. Luckily the Elf was dressed in long furs and a hooded cloak with a veil covering his face. I'll be home soon, he thought. A few miles he walked to a large house. A lantern was sputtering in the wind, and the large teak door opened and a female Bosmer stepped out. "Get in here before you freeze, Tindranel!" yelled the elf. Tindranel snickered, thinking of the warm bed he was ready for as he walked inside.

"Come out, Elfling!" shouted the Orc. A band of them stood ready on the doorstep of the house. Tindranel was squatting on the roof of his abode when he roared back. "Go back and lick your chief's feet! Lest you wish to have an arrow in your back!" The orc pack looked all around for the source of the insult. Tindranel rolled his eyes in disbelief, disappointed at the stupidity of an Orc. "Up here, idiots!" he shouted. Looking up, all looked in fear and brought forth a parchment. "This document declares this land b-belonging to the Clan of the Black Serpent! You must depart or we have n-no choice b-but to b-burn down your home and k-k-kill you and your fami-!" He barely uttered another word when a black-tipped arrow speared his eye, and appeared through the back of his head. Yet it was not Tindranel. It was a small Bosmer child, who wielded a large bow made of mahogany, and the arrows seemed to be crafted from ebony. Beside him was a girl. She held two large daggers that seemed to be short swords to her. Behind them was a large hound, who sprang forth like the arrow from the bow. The so-called bandit pack ran away, up over the hill and far into the wilds. The Bosmeri family laughed, obviously amused by the cowardly acts of the orcs. "We showed them, Papa!" laughed the boy.

"I can keep it!?" asked the boy. Nodding, Tindranel led him to an empty room. "But…..I don't understand why. If Tenrael has your daggers, and I have your bow, what will you have?" he continued to question. Tindranel clicked a button on the wall, and a false panel opened to reveal a large room. "This is why", he said. Strung on the walls were every kind of bow imaginable. From the common long bow to the dragon bone carved bow. Set in display cases were daggers that were in the same organization as the bows: weakest to strongest. In the center was a suit of armor that was unlike anything the little child had ever seen. It was made entirely of dragon scales. A slight green glow emitted from the cuirass, the boots, and the gauntlets. The helmet gave off a low red tint. "Papa, what is this!?" the little elf asked in astonishment. "Tiranil, my little hunter…..this is where I laid down my arms and my legacy in order to meet your mother and have you and your sister. The only time these armaments were used in recent years were when I found out my brother had tried to kill your mama. He was the leader of that bandit group we scared off earlier. That's why they were afraid of me.", Tindranel said. Tiranil walked over to the large, ebony bow that hung at the farthest end. "Why are they afraid of you?" asked the little elf. Tindranel began to speak, but closed is mouth, not wanting to tell his son yet. "When you're older. Now, you said you were going to show me this wolf you killed?" he asked. Tiranil's amber eyes lit up with excitement. Tugging at his father's arm, he dragged him up the stairs and out into the skinning shack. Tindranel was excited to see is son's first kill, but what he looked at was not a mere wolf. He was mortified. This wolf was not like any other wolf. This was a hound sent from the Hunting Grounds of Hircine. "Aren't you proud of me, Papa", asked Tiranil. Tindranel could only slowly nod. He ran inside, and spoke to his wife. "Larenya…..it's happening again", he said. Larenya's face spoke horror. Tindranel retreated to his armory and produced a horn. A unicorn's horn. He then walked over to his display case and retrieved a large dagger, made of bone. He took the dragon bone carved bow and strung it. Grabbing his arrows, he donned his dragon scale armor. He met his wife outside, who was tending to a large brown stallion. He mounted it, and turned to his wife. "Watch over our children. The Father of the Manbeasts will not take them!" he proclaimed. Tindranel dashed off over the hill, into the night. "Godspeed, my husband. _Aa' lasser en lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha._

"_Mankoi naa lle sinome_?" asked the border guard. "I am here to discuss matters with a…..friend", said Tindranel. The guards let him pass. He sped away, fast like the arrow of a god. The shrine of Hircine was only minutes away. When he arrived, an army of hounds and wolves surrounded him. "Lord Hircine, answer me! Heed my plea! Tell me why you have done this again!" Tindranel asked. The forest shook and the statue opened. The Father of Manbeasts stood there, on a large steed, his bow in hand. "Elf, you have proven useful in my endeavors, but your child as shown prowess. Give him to me as Taalindrel did to you!" Hircine demanded. Tindranel burned with hatred, his bow raised and an arrow knocked. In one swift motion, he shot the Daedric prince, and Hircine laid in the dirt, dead. The wolves that stood around Tindranel withered and eroded. Re-mounting his horse, he practically flew home to his family. It seemed to take him only an hour to get to is cottage, but by then he thought it to be too late. Yet he was only seconds wrong. When arrived, his family was high on the roof, and Tindranel began. His blade thrusting and slashing into the wolves and their grotesque hunting masters. The humanoid figures were half deer and half man. Their weapons made of fur and stone, and wood, but they used them with skill and dexterity. They were no match for the Elven hunter. The onslaught took only minutes, and Tindranel's son saw his father as he truly was. Tindranel's anger was so fierce he became what he sought to contain: his beast spirit. His fingers were now claws. His face had elongated, and his ears were perked. He looked to his son, and saw the terror in his eyes. The fur on him was black, and his eyes amber. Departing from his slaughter, he ran to the forest, escaping his past it seemed. Returning from his transformation, he knew he couldn't return home, and so he had a note sent by courier so his wife knew of what became of him. It said,

"Larenya, my dear,

It saddens my heart, knowing what our children have witnessed of me and because of it, I feel I must take my leave for a while. Explain to them that in due time I will return. But, for now, I must go back to Valenwood. Even though they do not understand, I trust in my heart that you do. I will find a way for us to be rid of Hircine forever. Until then…

Your husband

Tindranel

She dropped the note, and walked to her children's room to bid them night.

THWACK! The bowstring let fly the ebony arrow. Through the air it sailed, and embedded itself into the side of the elk. "A good kill, Tindranel", said an Imperial. The pair walked over to assess their kill, and began to skin it. "Catillus, I cannot thank you enough for the amount of assistance you have given me", said Tindranel. The Imperial waved his hand, sarcastically embarrassed. "You needed my help, and I needed game to survive. I think we've assisted each other, _mellon", _said Catillus. They snickered, and cleaned their victim. After an hour, they departed and arrived at a large town. The butcher shop sat in small grove apart from the main hustle of the market. Tindranel set a large burlap sack on the counter, and in turn he received a large set of arrows and vials containing lethal toxins. The hunting pair left, and walked to an inn. "Welcome, gents", said the barkeeper. Both nodded in acknowledgement, and sat themselves down on the oak stools. The lady sat down a bowl of stew in front of each, and gave them a piece of bread and a tankard of mead. "Now what happened that you had to come back here?" asked Catillus. A grim look overtook Tindranel's face. He set his tankard down, and turned to his friend. "150 years ago, I was a rambunctious little hunter. Though I was excellent, I thought myself too excellent. I bragged all over, and a few disdained of it. They tried convincing me to hold my tongue, but I just poured mead all over them and spit in their faces. That night, they slithered their way into my house, and lit it ablaze. I got out, but realized my sister was in there. I knew her death was on my hands, though not technically, but I wanted their deaths to be on my hands. I got in contact with an expert on Daedric lore. He told me of the Huntsman of the Princes. He told me of Hircine. I found the prince's shrine, and offered him the unicorn horn. He granted me lycanthropy. That very same day, I enacted my revenge. Little did I know of the cost of my actions. My bloodlust was strong, and I took myself across the border and into the wilds of Cyrodiil. I had mauled a noble and severely injured her daughter. I spent 30 long years in the Imperial City prison. When I got out, I tried forever to rid myself of this curse. Until I….. ", he paused. "Until you what, Tindranel", asked Catillus. "….until I killed Hircine." said the Elf.

"You KILLED Hircine?!" asked Catillus. His face was a mass of paranoia and confusion. "Catillus, I was just as flabbergasted as you are now. I never thought a Daedric prince could die, much less be injured. I don't know what it was." The pair left the inn, after paying for their meal, and mounted their horses. After leaving the town their journey began. They traveled through mountainous terrain, dim marshland, and hot, dry plains. They only rested when they arrived at a forested area, much to Tindranel's approval. Already the lithe Wood Elf was in the trees, jumping and swinging, as well as swinging three rabbits by the ears, and carrying a large stag on his shoulders. He may me small, but his strength was beyond measure. "Exactly what do you plan to do with that, little elf?" asked Catillus. Tindranel looked at is Imperial friend with a most dumbfounded look. "Um…eat it?" he said. Catillus looked at him in shock and astonishment. "That is a huge stage, and…..sorry…..but your….kinda small." said Catillus. Tindranel snickered as he began to gut the stag and the hares, within two minutes of gutting the first hare, it was already on the spit, with him rotating it every five minutes. "Obviously you do not know of the Green Pact" said Tindranel. Catillus' face was blank. I forgot he was an Imperial, Tindranel thought. He put his filleting knife down and crossed is legs, resting his shoulders on his knees. "Long ago, in the beginning days of Valenwood, the center deity of Bosmer religion was Y'ffre. Y'ffre made a pact with the early Bosmer: eat only meat, do not harm the vegetation of Valenwood, and do not make items out of wood. Now the meat applies to all meat…ALL meat." Said Tindranel. Catillus squinted his eyes, and then they grew wide and fearful. "Calm down. It's reserved for those who would cause me harm. On the eve of a predetermined battle, a Bosmer fasts. Sometimes, if one is that dedicated, they may fast a whole week. Now this does wither your stamina and health, of course. The elf then fights on that day with a special vigor-"he was cut off. "Vigor?" he asked. "Yes, vigor, Catillus. I do not know what it actually is, but I have felt it. I don't know if it's the adrenaline rush or….something else, but after battle the Bosmer then…..feasts. Speaking of feast, would you like some rabbit?" he asked. A brief pause took place, and they both laughed a bit inappropriately, and began eating their "feast".

Back in Skyrim…..

"Mama, what happened to Papa?" asked Tenrael. Larenya turned to her daughter, her face sorrowful "He had to go home, for a while. He'll be back soon." she said, but Tenrael didn't understand. "Remember when those….things attacked us? Well….that was a result of something Papa did. His sister died, and he thought it was his fault. He wanted revenge against the people who killed his little sister. So he became a werewolf. That's what you saw when he came back. That giant dog…..was your father." she concluded. Tenrael ran to her room, and hid under her bed with her long knife. Larenya sighed, and just sat down, putting her face in her hands. "Tindranel, wherever you are…..please come back."

In Valenwood…

Tindranel and Catillus climbed the massive tree, with Tindranel obviously being the one at the top first. His small frame allowed him to fit onto the last branch. "Tindranel, what do you see!?" said Catillus from far down below. The Elf squinted his eyes, looking far out into the world. A small cloud of dust arose over the horizon. It grew as it came closer. As it dissipated, Tindranel could make out dozens of wolves, who were mounted by the same grotesque hunters that Tindranel had killed back in Skyrim. When Catillus could see them, he said "What can this mean, Tindranel". The elf turned to his Imperial friend, and said "War…"


End file.
